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stormborn, the first of her name, the princess of dragonstone, queen of the andals and the rhoynar and the first men, khaleesi of the great grass sea, breaker of shackles, the mother of dragons, the unburnt.

⸢ THIS BLOG DOES NOT SEEK TO DEPRIVE THE CHARACTER OF HER CANON DEVELOPMENT, BUT TO ELABORATE UPON IT. THE MONSTROSITIES DONE UNTO DAENERYS ARE, WITHOUT QUESTION, DEPLORABLE AND YET CRUCIAL TO THE INTEGRITY OF THE CHARACTER WE SEE TODAY. ⸥

SHE BEGINS IN SOLEMN, HEAVY DRAGS OF A FIENDISH TONGUE 'CROSS THE SLENDER BACKS OF HER TEETH. NARY DOES HER EYE STRAY FROM THE IMPATIENT FLAMES, AND LIKE A BLAZING PYRE OF DEATH AGAINST THE TWILIT-HAZE OF MORNING, IT REFLECTS UNTO THEIR GLASS AMBIT. HER HANDS ARE WOEFULLY STILL. "I HAVE READ THE TALES OF YOUR ANCESTORS.. ⸺ OF THE WOLVES THAT CAME BEFORE YOU. MY BROTHER WOULD OFT GIFT ME BOOKS OF THE HISTORIES AND WHEN MY NOSE WAS NOT HOPELESSLY BURIED ANENT THE PAGES, HE WOULD RECANT FOR HIMSELF THE MANY TALES." AN EXHALATION; BREATH, LIKE SMOKE, DEPARTS HER FAIR LIPS AND SHE DESCRIES IN THE SHADOW'S BOSOM THE MAW OF A LONE DRAGON. "HE THOUGHT THE STARKS FOOLISH FOR THEIR UNWAVERING LOYALTY. WE DID NOT SHARE THIS SENTIMENT." a pale wisp against the inexorable pitch of night, an admission in earnest: "PERHAPS IF HE HAD, IT WOULD BE HIM STANDING BEFORE YOU AND NOT I."